


Im not a Diana Spencer

by Naquar



Category: Queen (Band)
Genre: First Meetings, Other
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-27
Updated: 2020-06-27
Packaged: 2021-03-04 05:35:06
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,226
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24948529
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Naquar/pseuds/Naquar
Summary: That dry face had already seen it somewhere, but where?"Do you feel you stop staring at me?" exclaimed the annoyed boy, lifting up  his chin."You ... are ..."The mouth of the Queen singer opened wide.
Comments: 2
Kudos: 9





	Im not a Diana Spencer

It was an evening in 1986.  
One of the many London evenings, in which the usual boring and famous fog wound through the alleys of the city, almost as if you could drown in it.  
Fortunately, London was also endowed with other attractions. Like?  
A lot of gay and non-gay clubs, pubs and discos where you could flirt with all the guys who happened to be on hand or drink to nausea and find yourself in the bed of some stranger.  
With a feigned bored look, a man fiddled with an olive in a martini's cocktail glass; he wore a military jacket, a blue shirt and sneakers.  
And, he waited, maybe some nice guy to flirt with, maybe offer him a drink ... in short, tow him; but so far he had found nothing to his taste, despite attending that famous gay club where he had met several men and saying that he was a famous guy: his name was Freddie Mercury, aka Farrouk Bulsara, the singer of Queen.  
The famous singer, in fact.  
"Still nothing?" asked the bartender with an ironic glance.  
"No, darling. You know how boring, apart from a couple of paparazzi ... nothing more, "replied Freddie with a shrug.  
"Maybe it's not your lucky evening?"  
"Bah ..."  
"As unspoken, friend," replied the bartender, before serving a customer.  
That night the place was not particularly crowded and the people present ... seemed too busy to be alone or to dance on the track with the music shot at the ball.  
So you know how boring it is, Freddie thought.  
At midnight on the dot, Cinderella Freddie decided to surrender before the carriage became a pumpkin.  
"I will ..."  
However, his attention was drawn to a tall, thin figure like a rush, blonde hair worn in a short bob, hidden under a baseball cap. Two brown eyes, the size of a fawn, the thin mouth bent in a grimace. The age more or less around twenty five, maybe even less.  
He was wearing a pair of faded jeans, jacket closed to the last button.  
"Hello," muttered the newcomer.  
Then hurriedly he took his place at one of the tables at the back.  
Freddie smiled under his mustache: finally something interesting. Maybe the evening could have ended well.  
"No surrender?"  
"No, bring me two vodkas to me and that guy, honey," Freddie ordered immediately.  
He got up from his stool and joined the guy -? - at the table looking around nervously.  
"Hey"  
"What do you want?" the other asked in a shrill voice.  
“Offer you a drink. I can?"  
The guy shook his head in denial.  
This left the singer a little disappointed. Typically that kind of approach worked (almost) always. In addition to the other type of approach, be recognized around.  
"Come on, don't be shy," Freddie said smiling, trying not to appear too intrusive.  
"No"  
"Are you okay?"  
"L-Listen, man, I don't need anything ..." the other stammered in a trembling and ... slightly different voice. More feminine.  
One moment ...  
The singer studied the boy's face better, he had always been good at remembering the physiognomy of the faces and he seemed ... familiar.  
That dry face had already seen it somewhere, but where?  
"Do you feel you stop staring at me?" exclaimed the annoyed boy, lifting up his chin.  
"You ... are ..."  
The mouth of the Queen singer opened wide.  
"Diana Spencer?" he only managed to murmur. In shock he had to sit down.  
"Damn!"  
Diana Spencer, the girlfriend of Charles of England? Oh, fuck ... Diana Spencer in a gay club? And who the hell was expecting it?  
"Are you by chance ... one of those ..."  
"No, I'm Freddie Mercury, the singer of Queen" whispered the singer still incredulous from the meeting.  
"I ... I ... oh hell"  
Diana put her hands to her mouth, recognizing it in turn.  
Freddie spun around as soon as he saw two reporters enter the club and Diana began to sweat cold. Just the ones he had met before, damn it!  
"Come"  
"Where?"  
"Trust me."  
Freddie took Diana by the elbow and led her to the bathroom.  
Diana looked around uneasily.  
"You're pretty tall ... so it should be fine," said Freddie, pulling off his jacket.  
"Thing?"  
"The reporters will recognize you, honey."  
"Oh ... thank you."  
Diana put on Freddie's jacket. It was fine even if a little tight on the shoulders.  
Finding himself smiling, thinking about what he was up to: the future princess would cry out to the scandal with the famous Queen singer who exchange jackets in a gay club!  
A doubt arose on her lips., Turning off the smile.  
"Why are you doing it?" she asked uncertainly.  
"Why a beautiful girl like you should be in trouble"  
Freddie refused to admit the excitement of making such a ... unconventional gesture of meeting such an unusual person.  
"You're a knight then," Diana laughed, relaxing a little. He took off his baseball cap, freed his thick blond hair.  
The girl ran her hands through her hair and flattened them and put on her hat.  
"Oh fuck you look like a man!" Freddie exclaimed with an amused smile.  
Diana saw her own image reflected in the mirror: she really looked like a young and seductive boy from the suburbs, dressed like that.  
"Let's go out?"  
"Of course, you didn't order vodka first?"  
"Okay, before they wonder what happened to us ..."  
Diana rolled her eyes.  
"No doubts, thank you."  
"Relax, my dear," Freddie replied calmly.  
The two returned to the counter.  
"So where did you end up?" asked the bartender with a raised eyebrow.  
"Nothing special."  
Diana and Freddie exchanged a look.  
"I see you've found someone ... huh?"  
"Yes, but he and I are old acquaintances" winked the singer. Not even the bartender recognized Diana.  
"Of course. I'd like to order, smooth vodka, ”Diana said, picking up her voice again.  
"Me too"  
Diana and Freddie clinked their glasses at the strange meeting.  
"I didn't think I was meeting you," Diana chuckled. His eyes shone with amusement.  
"Of course: I'm a cool guy and I'm famous," the singer preyed.  
"Mmm ... don't get too excited, Freddie"  
The singer smiled. He swirled the glass.  
"You know, I want to reveal a secret to you ..."  
"Tell me"  
"Do you know what I did on purpose to run away?" I can't stand court etiquette and all that mess around me, "Diana confessed with a shrug.  
"Alcohol is making you talk"  
"Sorry"  
"Don't worry, I'll be a safe," laughed Freddie.  
"Oh yes?"  
"Since you confessed the scandalous secret to me, I will tell you one of mine ..."  
"And which one?" she asked looking up from the glass: she had read a lot of stories about him that they wrote in newspapers.  
Freddie raised his glass for a moment. "I'm getting there"

For now the story ends here.  
Like a movie camera moving away, we let Freddie and Diana talk to each other and while doing so you think it's strange.  
That one evening, a singer met a runaway princess.

Author note: the fact seems to have really happened, back in 1986 in a famous gay club whose name I can't remember. And it seems that this fact was revealed by one of their mutual friends, a famous actress of the time. I only wrote a part of the story, but who knows how it really went ...I don't know if it's true or not, however it is ...


End file.
